Dear Lord,

I’m in a really pouty terrible mood today. Although I was so blessed by the experience of the writer’s conference this weekend, little things got on my nerves and distracted me. Plus bad bad decision-making as I navigated my day also put me in a sour mood. But I think the real source of my crabbiness was recognizing something about myself that I know to be a real issue- self-inflicted glass ceilings. In short, I avoid getting better at things that I probably could. As You know, this glass ceiling appeared at 12 when I realized playing the piano was going to take more work than memorization (just like with the cello, and painting, and drawing, and swim lessons, and…).

This weekend I faced the reality that writing is an art and a skill. I’m saddened by the “skill” of it because it means I have to put in an effort to go beyond my raw natural talents (just like with the cello, and painting, and drawing, and swim lessons, and…). I’m sad because I don’t want to disappoint You by “getting bored” and losing interest. I feel ashamed because I think this is nothing more than pure unadulterated laziness. And I’m hurt because to my utter surprise, I’m not as fantastic as I thought I was. I need to improve.

Am I afraid to finally see how good I could really be at something? Or am I just afraid to see how really bad I am?

You and I have gotten to a point in our relationship that is beyond You telling me what to do and what not to do. I’ve reached an age both naturally and spiritually where You expect me to make well-thought decisions and choices about my spiritual walk and maturity. I have a major personal decision to make and as an awesome Parent, this time You’re silently waiting for me to make it. …

…

…

me too.